The Two Noble Kinsmen (Act 2, Scene 2) | The William Shakespeare Project

PALAMON
[Palamon and Arcite remain, above.]
How do you, noble cousin?

ARCITE
How do you, sir?

PALAMON
Why, strong enough to laugh at misery
And bear the chance of war; yet we are prisoners
I fear forever, cousin.

ARCITE
I believe it,
And to that destiny have patiently
Laid up my hour to come.

PALAMON
O, cousin Arcite,
Where is Thebes now? Where is our noble country?
Where are our friends and kindreds? Never more
Must we behold those comforts, never see
The hardy youths strive for the games of honor,
Hung with the painted favors of their ladies,
Like tall ships under sail; then start amongst 'em
And as an east wind leave 'em all behind us,
Like lazy clouds, whilst Palamon and Arcite,
Even in the wagging of a wanton leg,
Outstripped the people's praises, won the garlands
Ere they have time to wish 'em ours. O, never
Shall we two exercise, like twins of honor,
Our arms again, and feel our fiery horses
Like proud seas under us. Our good swords now--
Better the red-eyed god of war ne'er wore--
Ravished our sides, like age must run to rust
And deck the temples of those gods that hate us;
These hands shall never draw 'em out like lightning
To blast whole armies more.

ARCITE
No, Palamon,
Those hopes are prisoners with us. Here we are
And here the graces of our youths must wither
Like a too-timely spring. Here age must find us
And--which is heaviest, Palamon--unmarried.
The sweet embraces of a loving wife,
Loaden with kisses, armed with thousand Cupids,
Shall never clasp our necks; no issue know us--
No figures of ourselves shall we e'er see,
To glad our age, and like young eagles teach 'em
Boldly to gaze against bright arms and say
"Remember what your fathers were, and conquer!"
The fair-eyed maids shall weep our banishments
And in their songs curse ever-blinded Fortune
Till she for shame see what a wrong she has done
To youth and nature. This is all our world.
We shall know nothing here but one another,
Hear nothing but the clock that tells our woes.
The vine shall grow, but we shall never see it;
Summer shall come, and with her all delights,
But dead-cold winter must inhabit here still.

PALAMON
'Tis too true, Arcite. To our Theban hounds
That shook the aged forest with their echoes
No more now must we halloo; no more shake
Our pointed javelins whilst the angry swine
Flies like a Parthian quiver from our rages,
Struck with our well-steeled darts. All valiant uses,
The food and nourishment of noble minds,
In us two here shall perish; we shall die,
Which is the curse of honor, lastly,
Children of grief and ignorance.

ARCITE
Yet, cousin,
Even from the bottom of these miseries,
From all that fortune can inflict upon us,
I see two comforts rising, two mere blessings,
If the gods please: to hold here a brave patience,
And the enjoying of our griefs together.
Whilst Palamon is with me, let me perish
If I think this our prison!

PALAMON
Certainly
'Tis a main goodness, cousin, that our fortunes
Were twined together. 'Tis most true, two souls
Put in two noble bodies, let 'em suffer
The gall of hazard, so they grow together,
Will never sink; they must not, say they could.
A willing man dies sleeping and all's done.

ARCITE
Shall we make worthy uses of this place
That all men hate so much?

PALAMON
How, gentle cousin?

ARCITE
Let's think this prison holy sanctuary
To keep us from corruption of worse men.
We are young and yet desire the ways of honor
That liberty and common conversation,
The poison of pure spirits, might like women
Woo us to wander from. What worthy blessing
Can be but our imaginations
May make it ours? And here being thus together,
We are an endless mine to one another;
We are one another's wife, ever begetting
New births of love; we are father, friends, acquaintance;
We are, in one another, families;
I am your heir, and you are mine. This place
Is our inheritance; no hard oppressor
Dare take this from us; here with a little patience
We shall live long and loving. No surfeits seek us;
The hand of war hurts none here, nor the seas
Swallow their youth. Were we at liberty,
A wife might part us lawfully, or business;
Quarrels consume us; envy of ill men
Crave our acquaintance. I might sicken, cousin,
Where you should never know it, and so perish
Without your noble hand to close mine eyes,
Or prayers to the gods. A thousand chances,
Were we from hence, would sever us.

PALAMON
You have made me--
I thank you, cousin Arcite--almost wanton
With my captivity. What a misery
It is to live abroad and everywhere!
'Tis like a beast, methinks. I find the court here,
I am sure, a more content; and all those pleasures
That woo the wills of men to vanity
I see through now, and am sufficient
To tell the world 'tis but a gaudy shadow
That old Time as he passes by takes with him.
What had we been, old in the court of Creon,
Where sin is justice, lust and ignorance
The virtues of the great ones? Cousin Arcite,
Had not the loving gods found this place for us,
We had died as they do, ill old men, unwept,
And had their epitaphs, the people's curses.
Shall I say more?

ARCITE
I would hear you still.

PALAMON
You shall.
Is there record of any two that loved
Better than we do, Arcite?

ARCITE
Sure there cannot.

PALAMON
I do not think it possible our friendship
Should ever leave us.

ARCITE
Till our deaths it cannot.

[Enter Emilia and her Woman, below.]

And after death our spirits shall be led
To those that love eternally.
[Palamon catches sight of Emilia.]
Speak on, sir.

EMILIA
[to her Woman]
This garden has a world of pleasures in 't.
What flower is this?

WOMAN
'Tis called narcissus, madam.

EMILIA
That was a fair boy certain, but a fool
To love himself. Were there not maids enough?

ARCITE
[to Palamon, who is stunned by the sight of Emilia]
Pray, forward.

PALAMON
Yes.

EMILIA
[to Woman]
Or were they all hard-hearted?

WOMAN
They could not be to one so fair.

EMILIA
Thou wouldst not.

WOMAN
I think I should not, madam.

EMILIA
That's a good wench.
But take heed to your kindness, though.

WOMAN
Why, madam?

EMILIA
Men are mad things.

ARCITE
[to Palamon]
Will you go forward, cousin?

EMILIA
[to Woman]
Canst not thou work such flowers in silk, wench?

WOMAN
Yes.

EMILIA
I'll have a gown full of 'em, and of these.
This is pretty color. Will 't not do
Rarely upon a skirt, wench?

EMILIA
Dainty, madam.

ARCITE
[to Palamon]
Cousin, cousin! How do you, sir? Why, Palamon!

PALAMON
Never till now I was in prison, Arcite.

ARCITE
Why, what's the matter, man?

PALAMON
Behold, and wonder!
By heaven, she is a goddess.

ARCITE
[seeing Emilia]
Ha!

PALAMON
Do reverence.
She is a goddess, Arcite.

EMILIA
[to Woman]
Of all flowers
Methinks a rose is best.

WOMAN
Why, gentle madam?

EMILIA
It is the very emblem of a maid.
For when the west wind courts her gently,
How modestly she blows and paints the sun
With her chaste blushes! When the north comes near her,
Rude and impatient, then, like chastity,
She locks her beauties in her bud again,
And leaves him to base briers.

WOMAN
Yet, good madam,
Sometimes her modesty will blow so far
She falls for 't. A maid,
If she have any honor, would be loath
To take example by her.

EMILIA
Thou art wanton!

ARCITE
[to Palamon]
She is wondrous fair.

PALAMON
She is all the beauty extant.

WOMAN
[to Woman]
The sun grows high. Let's walk in. Keep these
flowers.
We'll see how near art can come near their colors.
I am wondrous merry-hearted. I could laugh now.

WOMAN
I could lie down, I am sure.

EMILIA
And take one with you?

WOMAN
That's as we bargain, madam.

EMILIA
Well, agree then.
[Emilia and Woman exit.]

PALAMON
What think you of this beauty?

ARCITE
'Tis a rare one.

PALAMON
Is 't but a rare one?

ARCITE
Yes, a matchless beauty.

PALAMON
Might not a man well lose himself and love her?

ARCITE
I cannot tell what you have done; I have,
Beshrew mine eyes for 't! Now I feel my shackles.

PALAMON
You love her, then?

ARCITE
Who would not?

PALAMON
And desire her?

ARCITE
Before my liberty.

PALAMON
I saw her first.

ARCITE
That's nothing.

PALAMON
But it shall be.

ARCITE
I saw her, too.

PALAMON
Yes, but you must not love her.

ARCITE
I will not, as you do, to worship her
As she is heavenly and a blessed goddess.
I love her as a woman, to enjoy her.
So both may love.

PALAMON
You shall not love at all.

ARCITE
Not love at all! Who shall deny me?

PALAMON
I, that first saw her; I that took possession
First with mine eye of all those beauties
In her revealed to mankind. If thou lov'st her,
Or entertain'st a hope to blast my wishes,
Thou art a traitor, Arcite, and a fellow
False as thy title to her. Friendship, blood,
And all the ties between us I disclaim
If thou once think upon her.

ARCITE
Yes, I love her,
And, if the lives of all my name lay on it,
I must do so. I love her with my soul.
If that will lose you, farewell, Palamon.
I say again, I love, and in loving her maintain
I am as worthy and as free a lover
And have as just a title to her beauty
As any Palamon or any living
That is a man's son.

PALAMON
Have I called thee friend?

ARCITE
Yes, and have found me so. Why are you moved thus?
Let me deal coldly with you: am not I
Part of your blood, part of your soul? You have told me
That I was Palamon and you were Arcite.

PALAMON
Yes.

ARCITE
Am not I liable to those affections,
Those joys, griefs, angers, fears, my friend shall suffer?

PALAMON
You may be.

ARCITE
Why then would you deal so cunningly,
So strangely, so unlike a noble kinsman,
To love alone? Speak truly, do you think me
Unworthy of her sight?

PALAMON
No, but unjust
If thou pursue that sight.

ARCITE
Because another
First sees the enemy, shall I stand still
And let mine honor down, and never charge?

PALAMON
Yes, if he be but one.

ARCITE
But say that one
Had rather combat me?

PALAMON
Let that one say so,
And use thy freedom. Else, if thou pursuest her,
Be as that cursed man that hates his country,
A branded villain.

ARCITE
You are mad.

PALAMON
I must be.
Till thou art worthy, Arcite, it concerns me.
And in this madness if I hazard thee
And take thy life, I deal but truly.

ARCITE
Fie, sir!
You play the child extremely. I will love her;
I must, I ought to do so, and I dare,
And all this justly.

PALAMON
O, that now, that now,
Thy false self and thy friend had but this fortune
To be one hour at liberty, and grasp
Our good swords in our hands, I would quickly teach thee
What 'twere to filch affection from another.
Thou art baser in it than a cutpurse.
Put but thy head out of this window more
And, as I have a soul, I'll nail thy life to 't.

ARCITE
Thou dar'st not, fool; thou canst not; thou art feeble.
Put my head out? I'll throw my body out
And leap the garden when I see her next,
And pitch between her arms to anger thee.

[Enter Jailer, above.]

PALAMON
No more; the keeper's coming. I shall live
To knock thy brains out with my shackles.

ARCITE
Do!

JAILER
By your leave, gentlemen.

PALAMON
Now, honest keeper?

JAILER
Lord Arcite, you must presently to th' Duke;
The cause I know not yet.

ARCITE
I am ready, keeper.

JAILER
Prince Palamon, I must awhile bereave you
Of your fair cousin's company.

[Arcite and Jailer exit.]

PALAMON
And me too,
Even when you please, of life.--Why is he sent for?
It may be he shall marry her; he's goodly,
And like enough the Duke hath taken notice
Both of his blood and body. But his falsehood!
Why should a friend be treacherous? If that
Get him a wife so noble and so fair,
Let honest men ne'er love again. Once more
I would but see this fair one. Blessed garden
And fruit and flowers more blessed that still
blossom
As her bright eyes shine on you, would I were,
For all the fortune of my life hereafter,
Yon little tree, yon blooming apricock!
How I would spread and fling my wanton arms
In at her window; I would bring her fruit
Fit for the gods to feed on; youth and pleasure
Still as she tasted should be doubled on her;
And, if she be not heavenly, I would make her
So near the gods in nature, they should fear her.

[Enter Jailer, above.]

And then I am sure she would love me.--How now, keeper,
Where's Arcite?

JAILER
Banished. Prince Pirithous
Obtained his liberty, but never more
Upon his oath and life must he set foot
Upon this kingdom.

PALAMON
He's a blessed man.
He shall see Thebes again, and call to arms
The bold young men that, when he bids 'em charge,
Fall on like fire. Arcite shall have a fortune,
If he dare make himself a worthy lover,
Yet in the field to strike a battle for her,
And, if he lose her then, he's a cold coward.
How bravely may he bear himself to win her
If he be noble Arcite--thousand ways!
Were I at liberty, I would do things
Of such a virtuous greatness that this lady,
This blushing virgin, should take manhood to her
And seek to ravish me.

JAILER
My lord, for you
I have this charge to--

PALAMON
To discharge my life?

JAILER
No, but from this place to remove your Lordship;
The windows are too open.

PALAMON
Devils take 'em
That are so envious to me! Prithee, kill me.

JAILER
And hang for 't afterward!

PALAMON
By this good light,
Had I a sword I would kill thee.

JAILER
Why, my lord?

PALAMON
Thou bringst such pelting, scurvy news continually,
Thou art not worthy life. I will not go.

JAILER
Indeed you must, my lord.

PALAMON
May I see the garden?

JAILER
No.

PALAMON
Then I am resolved, I will not go.

JAILER
I must constrain you then; and, for you are dangerous,
I'll clap more irons on you.

JAILER
Do, good keeper.
I'll shake 'em so, you shall not sleep;
I'll make you a new morris. Must I go?

JAILER
There is no remedy.

Three QUEENS
Farewell, kind window.
May rude wind never hurt thee. O, my lady,
If ever thou hast felt what sorrow was,
Dream how I suffer.--Come; now bury me.

[Palamon and Jailer exit.]

The Two Noble Kinsmen (1613)

Act II, Scene 2

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